I’m Dottie, 22, and I’ve been hard of hearing since birth. Life has always been a balance between the hearing world that wanted me to speak and the deaf world where my hands could express more than words ever could.
One afternoon at Rosewood Café, I met my best friend Maya, who is completely deaf. We’ve been inseparable for seven years, sharing laughter and conversation in sign language.
That day, a little boy watched us sign, curious and smiling. But his mother wasn’t amused. She scolded him, then came to our table and told us to stop signing—calling it distracting, even “aggressive.”
Before I could respond, James, a waiter and ally, stepped in. Calm and firm, he told the woman we had every right to communicate however we needed, and that the real disturbance was her prejudice.
The woman left in a fury, but not before her son came back, signed “I’m sorry,” and asked to learn the word “friend.” Maya showed him, and he signed it back with pride.
That small moment—his curiosity, kindness, and courage—meant everything.
We stayed, we signed, we laughed. And for once, the world felt like it truly saw us.